Breaking All The Rules

The Craze From The '80s Is Back And Heating Up S. Florida Dance Floors.

September 5, 2003|By Sam Tranum Staff Writer

Even before the competition started, the b-boys were flaunting their top rocking, footwork, freezes and power moves.

DJ spinning, beats pounding, they showed off for each other and the audience -- about 200 people from all over South Florida gathered at the Greenacres Community Center.

A dancer with a baseball cap dropped into a one-handed handstand, kicking toward the ceiling again and again with the rhythm. Another, with bright red sneakers and dreadlocks, matched the move and held it for a few seconds longer. Hands slapped; smiles flashed; they laughed together.

Break dancing, the dance form they were practicing, grew out of the streets of the Bronx in the late 1970s and gained mainstream fame in the 1980s. It started out as much a part of hip-hop as rapping, D.J.-ing and graffiti. Then it faded from the public eye, kept alive only underground.

But in recent years, break dancing -- or b-boying -- has been creeping back into the spotlight. Revitalized and repackaged, it's appearing in dance clubs, television commercials and music videos.

The moves are basically the same as they were 20 years ago: stand-up dancing combined with floor-based acrobatics such as the classic head spin.

But other things have changed. In the beginning, b-boys battled for respect and status on the street, said Bronx b-boy pioneer Louis "Trac2" Matteo, 40.

These days some promoters are marketing b-boying as an "extreme sport" -- like a distant cousin of skateboarding.

Neighborhood b-boy battles and grudge matches largely have given way to structured competitions put together by promoters and sometimes sponsored by major corporations.

Mainstream America again is starting to take notice. ESPN2 decided to televise a b-boy competition for the first time. The network picked an August New York competition, The Ultimate B-Boy Throwdown, sponsored by Fila. Rather than just respect or ghetto celebrity, the b-boys competed for $5,000 in prize money.

"Breaking on a competitive level is worldwide now," said Throwdown promoter Mitchell "Speedy" Martinez, 35. "Back in the '80s you didn't recognize it as a dance, so now we're going to bring it to you as a sport."

In South Florida, the godfather of the b-boy scene is Richard "Speedy Legs" Fernandez, 37, of Miami. A professional dancer originally from Havana, he teaches b-boying, sets up and judges competitions and sometimes acts as spokesman for the b-boy community.

About seven years ago, Fernandez helped found a major competition in Miami -- the B-Boy Masters Pro-Am. About the same time, he started an annual competition at the Hollywood Police Athletic League gym. Last year he organized the first of the annual competitions at the Greenacres Community Center.

Others are doing their part to boost the scene. David "Max One" Alvarado, 21, and the group he dances with, the Unique Style Crew, are planning a competition later this month in Pembroke Pines.

"It's getting bigger and bigger nationwide," Alvarado said of b-boying.

B-boys -- and one b-girl -- battled individually and in crews. The contests were almost as much about attitude as they were about moves. Dancers taunted each other, showing off their best moves and daring opponents to try to do better.

After one battle, Deimos "Indelible" Del Nodal, a 25-year-old Miami resident, was out of breath, dripping sweat. He said he'd been b-boying about six years.

"It keeps me in shape, keeps me away from other things," he said.

The scene in Palm Beach County is young, so b-boys there are a little behind crews from Broward and Miami-Dade counties, said 19-year-old West Palm Beach resident Marvin "Marvelous Marv" Norero.

"We're trying to get a scene going up here," he said.

As b-boying spreads through South Florida and gains mainstream momentum nationwide, Fernandez is cautious. He has been through this before. He watched b-boying blow up and then fade away.

"It's a good thing that it gets us exposure," he says. "But the media, the corporations know that it attracts youngsters so they just want to use it to make money on it."

Sam Tranum can be reached at stranum@sun-sentinel.com or 561-243-6522.